“What… what did you say?” he stammered, taking a involuntary step back, his instincts finally screaming at him that he was in deep danger.
“I said, the police won’t help you,” I repeated, walking slowly out from behind the kitchen island. With every step I took toward him, Caleb took a step back, until his knees hit the edge of the sofa. Chanel looked between the two of us, completely bewildered and terrified by the sudden shift in the air. “They won’t help because the repossession of that vehicle is entirely legal. The corporate lease was terminated exactly two minutes ago due to non-payment.”
“How… how do you know that?” Caleb’s voice was barely a whisper now. He looked at me as if I had suddenly grown horns. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody told me, Caleb. I did it.”
I pulled a sleek, encrypted tablet from the pocket of my cardigan—the only device in the house still connected to the outside world. I tapped the screen once, and the television display shifted from the tow truck outside to a massive, corporate document.
At the very top of the document was the logo for his architectural firm.
Directly below it, in bold, undeniable letters, was a corporate resolution:
Caleb stared at the screen, his mouth hanging open. He shook his head violently. “No. No, this is impossible. Apex is a global tech firm. They own half the commercial real estate downtown. They don’t care about a mid-sized architecture firm! You’re lying, you made this up, you’re just a—”
“A sick little dog?” I interrupted, my voice sharp as a razor blade.
I tapped the tablet again. The screen changed one more time, displaying the master registration profile for Apex Digital Holdings. There, listed under the legal name of the sole founder, chairperson, and 100% owner of the multi-billion-dollar empire, was a single name.
Elena Vance.
The silence that followed was absolute. You could hear the faint sound of the tow truck driving away outside, carrying Caleb’s pride and joy with it.
Chanel looked at the screen, then at me, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. “Caleb…” she whimpered, clutching his arm, but her grip wasn’t tight this time—it was trembling. “Caleb, who is she? What is happening?”
Caleb couldn’t answer. He couldn’t breathe. He looked at the document, then looked down at my tablet, and finally looked at me. The realization hit him like a physical blow to the chest. The woman he had insulted, the woman he thought was living off his charity, was the very person who dictated his entire existence.
